


zenit

by maraudersourwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Emotional Baggage, Happy Ending, Healing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oddly Domestic, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Self-Improvement, Writer Theo, mostly comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 17:50:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14676303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/pseuds/maraudersourwolf
Summary: “I was thinking...,” Theo starts again. “The show you made me watch yesterday under the threat of setting my bed on fire? I want to write something with it”





	zenit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eliestarr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliestarr/gifts).



> **Prompt from witterprompts**  
>  “Look, I am familiar with what kind of writer you are and if you do anything to my favorite character, I am never speaking to you again.”
> 
>  
> 
> I'm not even sure what this is.  
> I've been spiralling out of control with my life and somehow writing seems to be the only thing keeping me afloat.  
> And I end up projecting.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Elie,**  
>  your birthday is long since gone but in my defense, I didn’t know.  
> Also, in the same defense, I didn’t ask around because I wanted this to be a surprise.  
> I accept refunds.
> 
>  
> 
> Barely, almost none at all beta’d.  
> Completely messy.  
> Enjoy.

 

 

“So I was thinking…”

Liam’s sitting in the kitchen counter when he walks in and it doesn’t even surprise Theo. He had come to learn that the shorter boy enjoys sitting in the weirdest places. The kitchen counter, over the table, over the back or the arm of the couch, on the floor even when there are perfectly empty seats to use.

He tries not to think how frustrating it can be, something that always riles him up a bit, and instead enjoys the sight of the younger boy.

The biggest hoodie on their now conjoined closet, that isn’t actually conjoined just that Liam takes his clothes without asking and never returns them, a pair of striped briefs that go mid thigh and barefooted. His hair is still a mess from the three hour nap he took and his hands are cradling a cup of coffee, since tea makes Liam’s stomach do weird noises, that Theo is sure has long since gone cold. Because it was never its goal to be drank but rather to warm Liam’s hands.

With all those quirks and yet Theo can’t help but feel a swirl of something warm in the middle of his chest, that expands and threatens to burst out or swallow him whole.

It’s oddly domestic.

Oddly theirs.

Almost but not quite his.

Heavy lidded and a bit puffy baby blue eyes fall on him and Theo notices that he went silent for too long. It’s not that it’s unusual for him to gawk. Damn, he even had catched Liam doing it too. The difference is the subtitely, because they aren’t exactly _nothing_ but they aren’t exactly _something_ either. And Theo is as subtle as a brick to his face when it comes to Liam.

Clearing his throat, he tries to resume.

“I was thinking...,” Theo starts again. “The show you made me watch yesterday under the threat of setting my bed on fire? I want to write something with it”

Liam nods absently, his gaze falls down to his hands at the now pretty disgusting cold brown water just to widen his eyes a second later, a bit more awake, and look back at Theo with urgency.

“What?,” Liam breathes out and frowns in a way that shouldn’t be endearing at all. “No, you don’t”

“Yes, I… do?”

Theo frowns at the shorter boy, taken aback for the sudden reaction. Liam usually would encourage him to do whatever he felt like, too invested into giving him a taste of “free will”. Enough to go over the top sometimes.

Specially if it came around writing.

Once Liam discovered that Theo not only had a way with words to twist and bend them, but also to place them down into a bundle of emotions and ideas that was actually productive, it had been his main focus in life for Theo to explore. From poetry to prose, short sentences to pages and pages, even from original to fandom related things. Liam made Theo try every single one, not even once saying _no_.

Until now.

“No, I mean--,” Liam huffs, places the cup of coffee at his side with a gentle but still loud tap and tries to jump down the kitchen counter. He’s probably still too sleepy to try to be more coordinated or maybe it’s just his usual clumsiness, since he hits the cup with the side of his hand almost throwing it into the floor, but catches it at the last second.

Theo’s uncertainty and annoyance tamper a bit at the amusing scene of cold coffee splattering around while Liam tries to arche out of the way and he chuckles, deciding to be the one getting closer instead.

“What do you mean?,” he asks, peering over Liam’s shoulder as the younger boy curses under his breath and cleans the mess of coffee with paper towels.

“I mean that you _can’t_ ”

“Why?,” there is more surprise than irritation inflicted in his voice, but Liam still flinches.

The younger boy turns and looks at Theo for a moment, jaw clenched and shoulders squared, before relaxing at the next second. His eyes have a glint of pleading that makes Theo’s insides twist and turn in a mix of emotions he doesn’t quite understand but wants to.

“Look, I am familiar with what kind of writer you are and if you do anything to my favorite character, I am never speaking to you again.”

And isn’t that a plot twist.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love how emotional everything gets when you do your thing. I’m not really a fan of sad stories or songs or anything sad really, you know? But--,” rough and calloused hands reach for his tentatively, fingertips hooking to catch hold of Theo’s and leave their hands loosely hanging in between them, “-- when you write, it’s different. Because I know it’s part of you and I really _really_ enjoy it”.

Baby blue eyes roam over his face slowly and Theo finds himself unable to catch his breath back. It’s not that he didn’t know Liam enjoyed reading whatever he came down with. And it isn’t either the way the younger boy so openly admitted it, because it’s not the first time and most likely not the last.

Is the amount of emotions in those eyes.

With his pupils still a bit dilated by sleep and yet focused on _him_. The way they look a bit more glossy than before, but he doesn’t know exactly why. How they roam over his features in an excellent pattern that looks almost mastered.

The way Liam seems to find what he looks for in each new swipe of his gaze.

Theo catches sight of the younger boy’s lips purse into a grimace and wants to lean down and kiss it better somehow, someway. But he keeps steady, knowing that words aren’t exactly Liam’s forte. And he’s trying. For him, because Liam always tries for him.

“It just-- I like them because-- Y’know, it reminds me so much of--”

And it clicks.

Liam doesn’t finish the sentence, that single and powerful word hanging between them both unspoken, but lets his hands drag upwards to Theo’s wrists and grip them gently, moving them up and forward. Then rearrange them until his thumbs are nesting in the middle of the palm of Theo’s hand. Liam doesn’t stop until they’re in front of his chapped lips, surely from biting and licking at them nervously. Theo doesn’t stop him either because he trusts. Like always, Liam’s the only one he trusts.

The first fingertip getting kissed is the index from his left hand, because it’s the first one Theo places in a keyboard when he’s about to let words flow.

The second it’s his right thumb and soon after his right index finger, because those are the ones that pinch his lower lip when he’s trying to fight down an idea.

Then it’s the right middle one, the one that taps taps taps over the ‘O’ key when he’s stuck in a word.

His left ring finger because it taps back in the ‘W’ key when he’s frustrated.

Each and every one, in a zig zag sequence, get kissed.

Ten fingers that leave so many words down on pieces of paper or screens. And now they have been settled over a small gesture, a kind warmth that he would have never expected. Unmoving. Expecting. Silence never felt quite like this before.

“Don’t you think it’s enough suffering for one lifetime?”

Theo takes a sharp intake of breath and tries not to let the burn at the corners of his eyes win, because the battle against his wild beating heart has been lost since the first second Liam looked at him.

Looked.

Not watched, not gazed.

No.

_Looked._

Because he’s there and Liam knows it.

Liam makes him know it too.

“I-- I just--,” Theo’s voice is a croak of emotions badly swallowed and he frowns, confused. Stuttering isn’t his thing, it’s Liam’s. And by the younger boy’s smile barely hidden behind the palm of his hands, where his lips are nestled now, he notices it too.

“Isn’t it enough?,” Liam asks again. His voice isn’t sleepy anymore but it’s still thick with something that Theo wants. That he craves. And that it’s being offered to him. Now, from all moments, because it clicked.

Because Liam looks at Theo when no one does.

But Theo understands Liam when no one tries.

“It is,” he replies.

And he wants to say it’s the biggest fall. That his shoulders slump and his soul gets lighter. That breathing gets easier and life shines a little bit more.

But it’s not.

It’s a piece falling into place. A soft laugh that wants to burst out of him and instead settles in between his ribs. It’s the lump on his throat tightening and loosening all at once. It’s Liam, smiling widely, with a glint in his eyes that says everything his lips can’t.

“I was thinking…,” Theo starts.

Liam chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that probably in a couple of year will give him wrinkles but that will never stop being adorable.

“The show you threatened me to watch,” Theo continues. He doesn’t remember his exact words, for once. And it’s strangely liberating. Because he’s not following a pattern either. “I want to write something with it”

“Okay,” Liam replies this time. The uneasiness from minutes before long since gone, being replaced by a softness that Theo isn’t sure has ever seen before. Or maybe he did and never knew how to name it. “What do you want to write about?”

“A happy end,” Theo breathes out and it wavers but it’s so real that he can almost taste the raw words on his tongue. “For once”.

Liam smiles but it isn’t wide and it isn’t sharp. It’s gentle and understanding. A reply to all his prayers. A conversation with his quiet. An ease for his demons. A welcome. A _thank you_ . An _I’ve been waiting_.

Liam smiles.

And it gets nestled against Theo’s lips this time.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **zenit** _(noun);_ the highest point, culminating point.
> 
>  
> 
> Hope to read you in the comments!


End file.
